


america

by mbaku (orphan_account)



Series: t'challa/m'baku drabbles [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, M/M, im sorry, listen this was going to be quick and then got out of hand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-23 21:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13796790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mbaku
Summary: “Lord M’Baku,” T’Challa said when M’Baku showed up, just him and no guards. “I’m extremely happy that you decided to join us.”“Of course,” M’Baku replied, smiling, “I would never miss an opportunity to stare at your beautiful eyes, your highness.”T’Challa simply blinks, and M’Baku walks in as Okoye stares at T’Challa with an amused look on her face.(Based on the prompt: M'Baku flirting with T'Challa by @xenagamzrca on tumblr)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fandom: please, we are begging you, stop writing for this ship, it's too much you already posted something yesterday  
> me, writing yet another fic: no 
> 
> thank u to @xenagamzrca on tumblr for the prompt, hopefully this was okay!  
> update: i forgot the ending bc i'm a mess god bless

T’Challa had sent out an invite to M’Baku for the next council meeting. He thought he had been diplomatic enough, after all it was the standard invite for every official event. “It would be an honor to have you at this event,” blah blah, same old same old, it hadn’t even been him who had written it.

Unfortunately for T’Challa, M’Baku had been particularly bored the day he received the invite, and he decided to write back. T’Challa got the letter, addressed directly to the king. He had opened it, not the Dora Milaje, because he said ‘there was no danger’ about that letter, he trusted that M’Baku would not poison him through mail.

However, after opening the letter, T’Challa threw a coughing fit, and the Dora Milaje were already planning how to kill Lord M’Baku when Okoye managed to read the letter. It had been the invite, and a small note saying:

_“Only because you asked so kindly, your highness”_

Shuri never let T’Challa hear the end of it when she came to know about it.

 

\--

 

“Lord M’Baku,” T’Challa said when M’Baku showed up, just him and no guards. “I’m extremely happy that you decided to join us.”  
“Of course,” M’Baku replied, smiling, “I would never miss an opportunity to stare at your beautiful eyes, your highness.”

T’Challa simply blinks, and M’Baku walks in as Okoye stares at T’Challa with an amused look on her face.

 

\--

 

He did participate in discussion. After all, he was the leader of his tribe, and his voice needed to be heard - seeing as, apparently, he was the only one with some common sense in that room. But when he was not openly fighting (through words, not actions, though he wouldn’t mind having T’Challa’s legs wrapped around his neck again) he sat, in whatever position he found most comfortable and/or dramatic at the time, staring at T’Challa.

T’Challa felt M’Baku’s eyes on him and every so often his thoughts would trail off and there’d be moments of silence. Eventually, the leader of one of the tribes asked T’Challa “your highness, are you fit to preside to this council today? You seem to be very absent-minded,” with some annoyance. To which T’Challa had to tell himself to get his shit together and beat M’Baku at his own game, whatever game that was, saying “yes,” hesitantly, “I apologize. Lord M’Baku,” M’Baku perks up and raises his eyebrows, “you have been staring at me so intently this meeting, but you haven’t said anything for a while. Is there anything you would like to say.”  
“No,” M’Baku does a dismissive hand gesture. “I was just distracted watching your mouth move. Please proceed.”  
T’Challa chokes on air and W’Kabi looks at him wide eyed. The Queen Mother tells them both “enough!”. Okoye can’t wait to tell this to Shuri.

 

\--

 

Now, M’Baku hadn’t heard much of what had been said, but he started paying attention when T’Challa mentioned a ‘diplomatic visit to the United States’. M’Baku stood up, and Okoye glared at him. M’Baku smiled innocently.

“I do not believe that is a good idea, your highness.”

“Why not, Lord M’Baku?” T’Challa braced himself for whatever M’Baku was about to say.

“I do not believe it is safe.”  
“With all due respect, I think I can protect myself, Lord M’Baku, and so can my general, who will come with me.”  
“Let me go with you then. A diplomatic visit seems like a good way to bring us both together, do you not agree? And a good relationship between Wakanda and the Jabari tribe would be very beneficial. Since you believe the visit to be safe...”

Everyone nodded in agreement. T’Challa was just relieved that M’Baku hadn’t said anything crass.

“Very well, seems like a sensible idea. If no one has anything against it, you will join us in this trip, Lord M’Baku.”

“Good,” M’Baku sat back on his chair, his shoulders relaxing. “It will be a good way to get to know you better, your highness. And I would _very much_ like to get to know you better.”

T’Challa begged Bast to give him strength.

 

\--

 

“These will be your clothes,” Shuri said, pointing at the suit, and some shirts and shorts. “They are made with Vibranium, and so are bulletproof and will keep you safe.”  
One of the conditions was that M’Baku had to use Wakandan technology on this trip. He begrudgingly accept, and let himself be guided to Shuri’s lab. M’Baku had to pretend to not be surprised by what he was seeing, and T’Challa watched him, amused.

“You designed all of this?” M’Baku asked Shuri.

Shuri nodded. “All of it,” she said. T’Challa put a hand on her shoulder and smiled like only a proud brother can.

“ _Your highness_ ,” Shuri said, turning to T’Challa, “let me show you what you will be wearing.”

M’Baku paid no attention to their conversation, and instead looked all around him, and at the Vibranium mines, thinking that maybe he had underestimated that 16 year old child.

“Lord M’Baku,” Shuri said, tapping his back, and M’Baku turned to face her. “May I have a word with you?”

They walked away from T’Challa, who was talking to Okoye, and Shuri made sure they couldn’t listen to their conversation.

“Next time you flirt with my brother-” Shuri started, and M’Baku interrupted.

“What makes you think I am interested in your brother?”  
“ _Next time you flirt with my brother,_ ” Shuri restated, looking M’Baku in the eyes, “do me a favour and record it.”

She slid a bracelet with kimoyo beads onto his wrist. “I need it for research. And by research I mean blackmail. I want to go to Coachella.”

“And what do I gain from this?”  
Shuri shrugged. “I don’t know… Amusement?”

M’Baku laughed. “You will be a good leader one day, young princess.”  
“I already am,” she said, and left to go mock T’Challa’s clothes.

 

\--

 

“Your suit,” M’Baku said, halfway through the flight, stretching his arms and yawning. “Is it really necessary to be showing the muscles on your abdomen? Or did you ask your sister to draw them on for you?”

“Have I offended you in any way, Lord M’Baku?”

“Not in recent days, why do you ask?”

“You seem to have taken it up yourself to mock me whenever you have the chance.”

M’Baku touched one of his kimoyo beads subtly. Shuri had programmed it so nothing would come up when he was recording - it recorded without letting anyone know. “That’s just because I find your smile adorable.”

T’Challa felt heat in his cheeks, then caught himself smiling and had to make a serious face, then decided to turn around and walk up to Okoye, and forgot to reply.

 

\--

 

T’Challa had to tell Okoye to make sure that, no matter what happened, M’Baku would _not_ speak during any meetings. This happened because during an interview someone asked M’Baku if he was “the king’s consort”, to which M’Baku replied “not yet” with a smirk. That had been televised, so M’Baku hadn’t needed to send the video to Shuri, though she did text him right away saying “OH MY BAST!!!!!!!”, and M’Baku just texted her “ *Hanuman”.

 

\--

 

“So do you just like to wear tight clothing, or do you enjoy the attention that people give you when you are wearing them?” M’Baku said, when they’re walking around, because T’Challa thought maybe it’d be a good idea to show M’Baku what the United States actually looked like.  
“If your goal is to befriend me, Lord M’Baku,” T’Challa says, tired and flustered, “you are not doing a very good job.”  
“Not _befriend_ you, panther king,” he says, “ _bed_ you.”

Okoye had to cover her face so no one would see her laughing.

 

\--

 

“Your husband is lovely,” a lady tells T’Challa. They were at an important dinner, and T’Challa had brought M’Baku and Okoye along. M’Baku soon disappeared and T’Challa found him speaking to many leaders and CEOs. M’Baku wasn’t talking much, but he was paying attention to what they were saying - most likely trying to understand their motivations and what they wanted from Wakanda. He was smarter then he let on.

“My husband?” T’Challa says, trying not to choke on his drink. “He’s not-”  
“Oh, excuse me, of course. Fiancé. I saw the interview. _Not yet_ , right?” the lady said with a wink. “Are you two excited for the wedding?”  
“We’re not-”  
The lady would not let him speak. “You do have weddings in your culture, don’t you?”

“Yes,” T’Challa said, smiling politely. “We do. Will you excuse me for one second? I must have a talk with my, ah, _fiancé_ .”

The lady raised her eyebrows, said “of course,” and then “enjoy the party!” and T’Challa hurried to M’Baku.

“King T’Challa,” he said happily. He looked as if he had had a bit too much to drink. “How is your evening going, are you enjoying the food? Such a shame they do not have much vegetarian food, you would think these people would be more… civilized.”

T’Challa shrugged off the comment. “Lord M’Baku-”  
“My dearest king, I feel that you can call me my name now, no? Must you always start with calling me ‘Lord’? Not that I mind,” he says, hitting T’Challa’s arm with his elbow.

“I would rather not,” T’Challa says, and M’Baku frowns. “People think we are a couple,” he says afterwards, as a different statement, not a follow-up to M’Baku’s comment.  
“We would make a very good couple,” M’Baku says. “Your sister Shuri has taught me the expression ‘power couple’. Apparently it’s how these people have been referring to us.”

T’Challa didn’t know what to answer first. He’d been talking to Shuri?

“Ah, the happy couple,” someone said, the CEO of an important company, Okoye told T’Challa (they were communicating by ear pieces, and Okoye had listened to the whole conversation. “You would make a really good couple,” she told T’Challa, and T’Challa couldn’t even tell her to shut up). “Your highness, I think it’s very brave of you to be out, especially being a king. It’s an inspiration to many people, I’m sure.”

T’Challa’s years of training to be a king had not prepared him for this. The man kept going. “How did you two meet, if I may ask? Or was it an arranged marriage?”

T’Challa stuttered but M’Baku intervened. “We fought to death for the throne. He won, and let me yield.”  
The man looked at them blankly. “A true, uh, romance story for the ages. Excuse me,” the man said, hurriedly leaving.

T’Challa was red in his cheeks and placed a hand on his face, concerned.

“Do you know where I can get more wine?” M’Baku asked. “It’s delicious.”  
“I fear you may have had enough,” T’Challa says, trying to not sound anxious.

“King T’Challa, you can not keep denying that you do enjoy the idea of us being together. I’ve noticed the way you look at me. And you always smile when I compliment you.”  
“You are drunk, M’Baku.”  
“Ah, now you call me by my name. Am I wrong, your highness?” M’Baku is smiling and T’Challa has no idea what to do. “We would make a great couple.”

“He’s right,” Okoye says, and M’Baku says “see, even your general agrees!”. They had forgotten that M’Baku could listen to their conversations.

A reporter interrupted them (Bast, T’Challa thought, it was truly impossible to have a decent conversation in this place). “Would you do me the favour of posing for a photo, please?” he asks, holding his camera ready. “Everyone wants photos of the most talked about couple at the moment.”

“Most talked about couple?” T’Challa says. He feels as if he’s about to faint.  
“Don’t you know, your highness? The public loves you and your husband.”  
“Fiancé,” T’Challa corrects, and only then does he catch what he had said. M’Baku looks at him suggestively.

“You and your fiancé make a lovely couple. Could you do me the honour of letting me take your picture?”

T’Challa sighs, and is about to reply, when M’Baku (seeing an opportunity) says “sure,” with a smile, grabbing T’Challa by the waist and kissing him quickly. They hear a camera shutter, and then the photographer thanks them with a grin.

While T’Challa catches his breath, M’Baku calls Shuri.

“Young princess,” he says, and T’Challa looks at Shuri dismayed, was his sister in on this? Knowing her, she probably was. “Do me a favour and check that photographer’s camera. If you delete it from his device, I think you will have enough leverage.”

 

\--

 

"We might make a good couple," T'Challa says, when he's carrying a drunk M'Baku back to the plane (Okoye wasn't helping because T'Challa said, and she quoted, "If he's my 'fiancé' then I should carry him").

"I know, your highness," M'Baku says, sticking his tongue out, as a way to tease him.

"T'Challa," he replies. "If we're to pretend to be a couple, you may as well call me by my first name." 


	2. idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It was M’Baku’s…” T’Challa cursed himself for being a good man and not blaming M’Baku for something that he had started “...idea.”  
> Shuri looked amused in the background.  
> “Idea?” the Queen Mother said. She usually trusted her son’s judgement. Usually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because i'm having too much fun with this, here's a continuation of this fic. some ideas were given by @blackjacksbest on tumblr, hope it's okay to put them here and that i changed some of them slightly!
> 
> also i looked it up and apparently kimoyo beads shouldn't work outside wakanda so uhhh au in which kimoyo beads work outside wakanda.

T’Challa woke up to his kimoyo beads warning him of a video call. Half-asleep, still, rubbing his eyes and yawning, he took the call - it was his mother. 

“Mother,” T’Challa started, wanting to tell her that time differences did exist, and that even though he was the Black Panther he still did, indeed, need to sleep, and that he’d call her later and-

“You are engaged?” 

If T’Challa had to write down exactly  _ how  _ she’d said that sentence, he wouldn’t be able to. It felt as if his mother was about to appear from the window and drag him by the collar of his shirt to the nearest building and throw him from the roof. Something like that. Though he was half-asleep.

At first it didn’t register in his mind. Nakia and him had broken up. If he were engaged he would probably be aware of- Shuri appeared on the window.

“Ah,” he said, trying to shake off sleep and praying that Bast would provide him with an excuse extremely fast. “That.”

His mother did not reply, just looked at him with a threatening expression. How does the saying go? What’s a mob to a king, what’s a king to his mom?

“It was M’Baku’s…” T’Challa cursed himself for being a good man and not blaming M’Baku for something that he had started “...idea.”

Shuri looked amused in the background.

“Idea?” the Queen Mother said. She usually trusted her son’s judgement. Usually.

“Yes, he, ah, thought that perhaps saying that we are engaged would make things easier for everyone,” T’Challa was digging himself into a hole and he knew it, “the leader of an isolationist tribe marrying the king of Wakanda shows that there’s no political turmoil.”

“T’Challa,” -Bast, how T’Challa hoped Okoye, or even M’Baku, would wake up,- “there are other ways to do that. That do not involve having to fake a relationship.”

T’Challa heard it more or less like “Your father and I did not raise you to be such an imbecile.”

“Sorry mother, I don’t think my kimoyo beads are working properly, I can’t hear you, tell Shuri that she should really work harder on them.”

“T’Cha-”   
T’Challa hung up and buried his face on his hands. He was a terrible liar and his mother could see right through him and he just hoped that she would excuse his behaviour. He’d attempt to blame it on the USA - their air was polluted and it clouded people’s judgements, hence why so many of their politicians made bad decisions. It seemed scientific enough. He would get Shuri to corroborate his statement. Though his mother knew better than that, but when he got Shuri in on it she’d usually be more lenient of his shortcomings. 

“I really do have genius ideas,” M’Baku says, still laying down, still on the floor (T’Challa had carried him all the way to the plane, he wouldn’t be carrying him to a bed as well).

“How long have you been awake for?”

“The beginning of your call. You speak very loudly.”

T’Challa rolled his eyes. 

“You did not blame me.”

“No,” T’Challa said.

“You could have said that I had just been reckless and senseless, but you did not.”

T’Challa sighed. “Yes, I could’ve, but I chose not to-”

“Because you are in love with me,” M’Baku finishes, grinning, entertained. T’Challa is too tired to deal with his antics.

“It is two in the morning and you are drunk. M’Baku, go to sleep.”

“If you say so,  _ your highness. _ ”

Now, how come most of the time people called him “your highness” they said it in a mocking tone? 

 

\--

 

“Who proposed?”

T’Challa hadn’t agreed to do any interviews, especially not for gossip magazines and entertainment websites, and  _ especially _ not after what M’Baku had said. However, he couldn’t stop M’Baku agreeing to them. As such, T’Challa attended all the meetings he had to attend, and M’Baku went on to be photographed for magazines and do interviews. Somehow, he had become quite the celebrity and T’Challa was worried.

“He did,” M’Baku said, pretending to remember a fond memory. “He’s the romantic one.”

T’Challa sighed, rubbed his temples as if he had a headache (he did, it was called M’Baku).

“Why are you showing me this, Shuri? I have to go to a meeting.”   
“I never thought you were romantic, brother,” she said, enjoying T’Challa’s suffering face too much. “What was it like? Did you offer him flowers? Take him through a romantic tour of the city? M’Baku did not say, and everyone is curious.”

She put emphasis on the “everyone” and T’Challa suddenly remembered that he was the king of a country, and that that country was probably watching all this unfold. 

“Lord M’Baku is only creative when it comes to making trouble, apparently.”

“Do you not like him? Not even one bit? I think you two make a beautiful cou-”   
“Can’t hear you Shuri. These beads aren’t working, you truly are terrible at technology.”   
“Brother!”

“It’s the connection,” T’Challa imitated static noises.

“I can see you making the static noises! T’Challa,” Shuri tried to say this with a straight face but was just laughing.   
“I can’t hear-” T’Challa hung up, and got a text from his sister saying “dumbass!!!” right away.

“Your highness,” someone said. He turned around, he’d seen him before in another meeting, he thought. He was terrible with names, and either way, old white men all look the same. They really ought to have more diversity in these “diplomatic meetings”. 

“How’s the fiancé? I hear he’s quite the star.”

“He’s giving an interview, I believe.”   
T’Challa reluctantly shook the man’s hand. “Good thing you’re marrying him, eh? I think every woman is in love with him,” the man did the typical straight-white-politician laugh, “my wife has already told me she’d trade me for him in a heartbeat if she could!”   
T’Challa gave a polite smile, but something about that comment annoyed him. “Yes, good thing I’m marrying him, then.”

 

\--

 

Okoye went with him everywhere, but they left M’Baku on his own. He could communicate with them, should he need to, and M’Baku said he was warrior and could protect himself from all these “weak looking people” if necessary. T’Challa still insisted that M’Baku stay with Okoye, he didn't need her (Okoye looked at T’Challa, and only didn’t tell him “I’ve saved your royal ass more times than you can count” because she was too polite and was professionally forbidden from it), but M’Baku denied it.

Besides being concerned about M’Baku’s safety (“Are you worried about me, your highness?” M’Baku asked, smiling innocently. “It is my duty to worry about my people, Lord M’Baku,” T’Challa replied, his voice forcibly formal, and M’Baku frowned), he also wanted someone to keep an eye on him, seeing as, in his free time, M’Baku only talked to Shuri, and that was never good. 

“M’Baku,” T’Challa said, when he got out of a meeting and found M’Baku sprawled on a sofa, waiting for him. He was probably done for the day. Some people stopped to stare at M’Baku’s pose, but M’Baku didn’t seem to notice or care about them.

“My love,” M’Baku said, quickly getting up, revelling in the way T’Challa almost flinched at those words. He should have recorded it and sent it to Shuri - she’d have loved it. Probably turn it into one of her ‘memes’ (she had taught him the word while M’Baku was on a break from interviews).

T’Challa looked around and made sure no one could hear them.

“If we are to be faking a relationship-”

“Is it still fake,  _ King  _ T’Challa? You can admit you are in love with me.”

T’Challa could usually trust Okoye to deliver a beating to anyone who dared interrupt him, and yet she never acted when M’Baku did it. He would have a talk with her, but having his general fight his ‘fiancé’ was bad publicity.

“-we must plan some things beforehand, or people will ask me about it and our stories will not match.”

“Do not worry, I’ll ask Shuri to brief you on whatever I say. She hasn’t been busy lately.”   
“Since when are you and Shuri a team?” T’Challa asked, incredulous, folding his arms.

“Since we both found that we have many interests in common.”

“Such as?"

“Annoying you.”

 

\--

 

“Your highness,” another white man said, this time they were at an event in some sort of museum. T’Challa wondered how many events these people could come up with, since there were very few in which he had been asked about his thoughts on pressing issues, and more in which he was asked what he thought of the food (“good, but not as good as Wakandan food,” he said, and that usually would garner him some chuckles. Unfortunately for M’Baku there wasn’t much vegetarian food being served, so he usually stuck to snacks and not meals).

The man extended his arm to shake M’Baku’s hand. M’Baku stared at the man’s hand, shook it hesitantly. 

“And this must be the much talked about fiancé, right?” he said, pointing at T’Challa.

“Hm,” M’Baku said, squinting his eyes. “I am the fiancé, King T’Challa is the ruler of Wakanda.”

“Oh,” the man said, surprised. “Excuse me, I’d only heard about you, but I didn’t see any photos so I thought…”

The man didn’t finish the sentence.

“It is of no concern,” T’Challa said, even though it had bothered him, and mostly it bothered him that M’Baku was already texting Shuri, as if he was a teenager and she was his best friend. He shook the man’s hand. 

“The media was right, you know? Both the king and the fiancé are extremely good looking.”

T’Challa cleared his throat, M’Baku glared at the man. “Ah, yes, well, you know, no one cares about the value of a person anymore, people only seem to care about appearances.”

The man looked T’Challa up and down, placed his hand on T’Challa’s shoulder.

“He is engaged,” M’Baku said immediately.

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Beg.”

T’Challa sighed. “Forgive him, his sense of humour is odd at times,” T’Challa says, grabbing M’Baku’s arm. “Give us a minute, apologies.”

“I did not like the way that man was looking at you,” M’Baku said. “You are engaged!”

“I am  _ not _ engaged, M’Baku.”

“But he does not know that, and I recognized the look in that man’s eyes.”

T’Challa did not want to ask. 

“I should have challenged him.”

“ _ No. _ ”

“He was being disrespectful, your highness! How can you let these people talk to you in this manner! You must impose yourself.”

“M’Ba-”

“You should eat more. You are too tiny and skinny, people will not take you seriously. When we come back I’ll take you to Jabariland, we have good food there, it will make you stronger-”

T’Challa put his hands in a praying manner, placed them near his mouth. “M’Baku,” he started, “I will not move in with you to Jabariland. And I will impose myself only if necessary.”

“I was not proposing you move in with me to Jabariland. But if you want to…”

“You are truly impossible,” T’Challa says, shaking his head.

“You could keep me locked in the plane and not let me come with you to these events, and yet here I am. Am I truly that impossible, your highness? Or do you just like being able to complain about me?”

 

\--

 

“When will you tell him you are in love with him?”

“Shuri! I am  _ not _ -”

“Brother, please, Okoye keeps telling me about how flustered you get when you are around him.”

“He is disruptive!”

“Are you sure that’s the reason?” Shuri says with a smile.

“How am I supposed to be serious when he keeps flirting with me and making up stories about us?”

“You should flirt with him. It’s your turn to be disruptive.”

“That’ll just make him believe that I truly am in love with.”

“You are.”

T’Challa made static noises. “Can’t-”

Shuri shook her head, rolled her eyes, laughed. “I’ll be here when you want to admit that you have a crush on M’Baku. Goodbye, brother.”

She hung up. Okoye pretended to walk away but T’Challa caught her before she could take a step.

“Even my general is conspiring against me.”

“Your mother believes that you two make an adorable couple.”

“I do not think my mother likes M’Baku enough to want to see me engaged to him.”

“You forget that he and Shuri are good friends now, and she keeps talking about him to your mother.”

“Ah. So my whole family is against me?”

“W’Kabi said he was happy to see you move on from Nakia, even if he and M’Baku have their disagreements.”

“Incredible. I can trust no one,” T’Challa says, but he’s smiling. “Well, hopefully the Jabari dislike me enough to try and stop this.”

 

\--

 

“Your sister has found a way to make talk to my tribe. She’s very inventive.”

They were walking around again, both T’Challa and M’Baku were free (T’Challa still could not believe that M’Baku had a schedule of his own) so they took some more time for sightseeing. By foot, because it was the only true way to know a place. If they got lost, they’d call Shuri and she would help them.

“Oh,” T’Challa says, hoping that he was about to say that everyone had rioted when they found out he and M’Baku were supposedly engaged.

“Apparently they love you. They believe you are a good man, and will make a good king.”

“I am humbled,” T’Challa replies. It was good to know that the Jabari liked him, made him feel like he he was getting the hang of this job. Okoye smiled proudly at T’Challa.

“They think it is a very good idea for me to marry you,” M’Baku said smugly.

Of course. Because Bast truly did like testing him. Okoye muffled her chuckling. 

“It would seem like everyone believes it is a very good idea to marry you,” T’Challa says, thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is where i come to meme. i will write more!! next up is t'challa flirting with m'baku lmao.   
> thank you for everyone who reads, comments, leaves kudos, sends prompts etc. this fandom is amazing. hope u are all having a good day! come chat with me @mbakv on tumblr if u want to!

**Author's Note:**

> come chat with me @mbakv on tumblr, feel free to send prompts, i'll get to them as soon as possible!! (i'll write the other ones soon, i promise!!)


End file.
